


Warmth

by m_class



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Discussions of violence, Established Relationship, F/F, Grounding, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt: Tasha/Deanna‚ self defence lessons, Psychological Trauma, Self-Defense, Star Trek Femslash Prompt Meme, Tasha Yar Lives, Telepathy, in which both Tasha and Deanna are proactive about checking in with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22731781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_class/pseuds/m_class
Summary: Tasha and Deanna each have their own knowledge to share.
Relationships: Deanna Troi/Tasha Yar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Star Trek Femslash Prompt Meme





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: In one of my self-defense classes, I was taught that after a fake (or real) fight, "grounding" yourself through a peaceful mutual touch like a handshake or hug is an important way to let your mind/body know that the violent situation is over and to discharge that jangly adrenaline energy. I headcanon that it's a Known Thing for 24th-century security and mental health professionals like these two, so that's what Tasha is doing when she offers the post-excercise hug.

“Remember--keep your center of gravity low--yes. Great. Great—" Tasha advises, between steps, as Deanna counters her simulated attack in half-time.

Deanna finishes with a mock blow to Tasha’s nose, and Tasha calls the exercise.

“You did a good job of keeping your balance and using it against me,” she notes, as Deanna reaches for her water bottle.

“It’s always so different,” Deanna muses. “Practicing a given movement, and then doing it—even pretending to do it against someone. And yet in another way, it’s not. It’s just—still the same me doing the same motion. Just the way, on an away mission, I’ve never felt like a stronger, braver Deanna, just still--myself. Maybe that’s the strangest part of all.”

Tasha nods. “Yes,” she says. “I think I know what you mean.”

“Do you remember what it felt like to act in Beverly’s play?” Deanna asks. They sit face to face on the floor of Tasha’s quarters, Tasha’s legs crossed and hands folded as if to meditate.

Tasha nods, a slight smile touching her lips despite the anxiety glimmering behind her eyes. “How could I forget?”

Deanna smiles. “A lot of people assume that the best way to counter telepathic probing is by making one's mind blank, but even with extensive training, that’s not a workable measure in most real-life situations because it takes you out of the game. If you’re forcing yourself not to think of anything, it isn’t as though you can easily carry on a conversation or carry an injured ensign to safety or what have you.”

Tasha gives a minute nod, the tension in her body visible only in the tightness of her fingers against her palms.

“Instead,” Deanna continues, keeping her voice light and calm, “I like to recommend that you think of yourself and what’s going on around you as a scene in a play—what would Tasha do next; what do you think the other characters will do next? It’s a way of distancing yourself from the immediacy of your own personal thoughts and emotions in a way that’s going to throw off most telepathic senses.”

Tasha nods, her eyes serious. Deanna smiles. “Ready to try?”

“Are you ready to be done for the day?” Tasha asks formally, tilting her head to the side and regarding Deanna with care in her eyes as Deanna reaches for her water bottle again, breathing hard. Deanna has always suspected that these lessons are more emotionally taxing for Tasha than they are for her, fear and hope and a fierce protectiveness rising from her like steam.

But it’s Tasha who is visibly ever-attentive to Deanna’s limits and comfort, often suggesting breaks almost sooner than Deanna notices her own weariness or overwhelm--although Deanna also tries to be proactive, for both their sakes, about asserting her needs herself as well.

Deanna nods, and Tasha drops her arms to her side before lifting them up again a second later, now loose and open, with palms upturned.

Deanna steps into her arms, and they rest against each other, grounding themselves in the safety of each other’s warmth.

“And that should be good for today’s practice, unless you’d like to keep going?” Deanna asks.

Tasha shakes her head, slumping out of her meditative posture. “No. I--no.” She smiles as she rises to her feet, extending a hand towards Deanna. Deanna takes it.

“Doing all right?” she asks gently.

Tasha nods, standing in silence for a moment before sinking onto the edge of the bed. “I think I’m ready for cheesy movie night, if it’s all the same to you,” she says, a little hoarsely.

“Of course.” Deanna sits beside her, leaning lightly against her shoulder. “We can _always_ take a break, or break for the day, whenever you want to,” she reminds softly.

“Yes,” Tasha says, and the words still feel foreign in her mouth, an uncanny reminder that what she wants and needs and decides is, in this place, held as something sacred. “Yes. I know.”


End file.
